An Angel's Requisition
by scarlettswan
Summary: In the midst of the upcoming war, Hermione finds herself in a completely different but altogether real fight. With a love that can't be, and the mystery of Blaise Zabini, she has to find out what's haunting her and how to stop it.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

When the flowers turn their face towards the sun in the springtime, I think of him. I think of how he saved me from a life I wasn't meant for in the first place – or maybe I was and I just wouldn't accept it. I think of how he was my angel, still is sometimes in the dark, in the nights when I allow us to exist together. I think of how much we became a part of each other, and how we were ripped apart countless times by circumstances far beyond our control. I think of how much I miss him, and wish I could see his comforting – sometimes arrogant – smile. I think of love between the most unlikely of people and I have hope for the future because I know anything is possible and everything you think could never happen _does_.

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"Have you ever jumped off of anything, Mione?" Ron asked from beside me.

"No of course not; I'm not an idiot!" We had been walking briskly to Potions when we'd started another row.

"Then you can't claim that you take risks." He pointed to Harry who was – extremely unobservant – on my other side. "Take a look at Harry," he said, calling up the wizard's attention. "He's bloody brilliant! He's fought off death eaters and dementors! And you, you've done nothing like that."

"And you _have_?" I countered angrily, "I don't recall you ever fighting off anyone with a skill beyond your own – or jumping off of anything. You're a foul git to be so hugely hypocritical."

"I'm a Quidditch player, Hermione," He said regally, placing his hand over his heart. "I'm face-to-face with death every game."

"No one's died from Quidditch, Ronald," I retorted, "Only you would be so dramatic."

"Me, dramatic? You're the bloody bookworm who can't ever let anything go. When's the last time you saw me crying over an A-?"

"When's the last time you got an A at all, Weasel, I bet you can't even remember, you're-"

"Alright!" Harry bellowed from behind us, I hadn't realized he was even paying attention. "That's enough, I'm sick of you guys fighting all the time."

I looked at him, eyes wide. Harry wasn't ever prone to break outs.

"I'm sorry," I said honestly, I didn't want to anger him. Ron just shrugged, head hung low in embarrassment.

Potions was weird after that; Harry's particularly grim mood hadn't changed a bit and I could feel the tension in the air. Something was wrong, but I didn't know what, and I planned to ask him later. However, at the time being, I had to deal with Professor Snape, who also seemed quite irritable. I wondered if all the guys in Hogwarts had simultaneously – and rather impossibly – started their periods. I giggled at the thought of Ron PMS-ing.

"Miss Granger!" Snape roared, coming over to where I was sitting. "What is so funny?"

"Nothing, Professor," I blushed as everyone at the Slytherin table – except Blaise who was looking very intently at me – snickered.

"Well if you're unwilling to share your amusement, then maybe you can share it in detention!" I groaned inwardly and out of the corner of my eyes I saw Blaise's smile. I frowned, wondering why Slytherins were so bloody annoying.

Later at dinner, Harry was still acting weird and not really talking to us. After I'd asked him what was wrong, he'd only given me the vaguest reasons; his studies were too hard, and his head was hurting. I knew that he and Ginny had just recently had a row, but surely he knew that they would make up, they always did.

I was so preoccupied with Harry's mood-shift, that I didn't even notice that I was late for detention until Ron muttered about it after desert.

"Oh!" I said and got up. I noticed a few chuckles behind me as I ran out of the main hall. I was too worried to be truly bothered by this.

I checked the time as I ran down the halls and into the lowest level of Hogwarts. I was already ten minutes late, Snape would kill me. I tried to push from my head the fear of whatever punishment I would have as I hurried along. When I reached the corridor, I slowed down my pace; something inside me was protesting every move.

I stopped just outside of the Potions class, trying to catch my breath and calm my nerves.

I opened the doors slowly and walked through the row of desks that had seated many very bored students before. I looked for Snape in the potion closet but I didn't see him there either. I frowned and sat down at one of the desks. Not really knowing what to do, I pulled out my big, black potions book and started writing down excessively long potions ingredients on a piece of parchment. I figured that if Snape were to walk in and I wasn't doing anything, he would have every right to get mad – or at least he'd think so. But this way, he would have no reason to complain.

"What are you doing?" Someone chuckled from behind me. I turned around quickly, causing my neck to hurt.

"I could ask you the same thing, Zabini." I frowned, rubbing my neck.

"It's just weird that you would be doing homework because you wanted to." He smirked and sat down next to me. I noticed how his hair fell handsomely into his face and how he pushed it back, sighing.

"Yes, but not nearly as weird as you being here on a Friday night when you could – and probably would be – shagging some girl senseless."

"Me?" he asked mockingly, his eyes wide. I smiled. "I can't believe you would suspect me, the good Slytherin, to be so awful."

My eyebrows rose pointedly; he smiled.

"Okay, yeah, you're probably right." He said. I rolled my eyes.

"So why are you here?" I asked again.

"Who would pass up the chance to be with someone like you, Granger?" Great, I thought, he was a smooth talker. I tilted my head to the side and rolled my eyes again.

"Seriously, Zabini, why are you here?"

"Snape asked me to." He shrugged. I was confused at that, but too tired to try and figure out why.

"Okay so what's my assignment?" He shrugged again.

"I don't know," He looked around, "I guess we just do whatever. Hmmm," he mused and placed his hand underneath his chin. "What's fun in a potions classroom?"

"Not much when Professor Snape teaches…" I muttered. He snickered.

"Granger, the good witch, actually admitting that she doesn't like a class?" He was mocking me, I could tell, but something about the way he said it told me it wasn't meant to be demeaning. I smiled softly.

"Shut up,"

"Okay I got it!" He jumped up and ran to the front of the classroom where Snape's desk was.

"Got what?" I asked warily.

He held up two of Snape's vials and wiggled his eyebrows excitedly. I laughed, but was still a bit worried; I hoped that whatever it was wasn't going to get us in trouble.

"What are you doing?" I asked as he went around to one of the first years' cauldrons.

"Ah perfect," He smiled wickedly, "Dylan Gremaldi; no one likes him anyway."

"What are you talking about, Zabini?" I went over to where he was, standing near the cauldron, and looked down into the simmering blue liquid.

"Okay here's the deal," He handed me a vial. I looked at it skeptically, "We each take our vial and do a little mixy-mixy and then, in the morning when Snape drinks his everyday butterbeer, he'll find that there's a nice surprise. He'll be dancing all morning." He said this last part in a very excited, almost childlike way. It was endearing. He looked up at me to see my eyebrows raised, and my mouth curved into a smile. He smiled too.

"Sounds fun doesn't it?" He said as he dipped his vial into Gremaldi's cauldron. It was true what he said though; that nobody liked Gremaldi. He was a spoiled child who was uncharacteristically snotty for a Hufflepuff. It felt much less guilty because it was him.

The potion bubbled when it hit the cool sides of the glass vial and it nearly fizzed over.

"Come on Granger," He titled his head towards the black pot.

"I don't know," I hesitated. "I'd feel so bad, and I'm not really big on getting caught."

"You think most people are?" He laughed, "Nope, we're just good at avoiding getting caught. Plus, Snape loves me. If he found out it was me, he would probably applaud me for my 'use of higher level potions skills.'" He said in a mock voice. I laughed but shook my head.

"Fine," he sighed, "But I'm going to have fun."

"Don't worry I'll have fun watching you, Zabini." I said as he walked up the aisle but he stopped and turned around when I said his name, making me crash into his back.

"Will you, then?" His smiled sexily. He was so close to my face I could hardly breathe, "I didn't realize you felt that way. Naughty girl." He smiled and I blushed.

"You know I didn't mean it that way, you bloody git." I hit him on the shoulder and he continued on, pouring the potion into Snape's cup.

"Won't he see that?"

"Nope, cause he always asks me to get his coffee for him." Another wicked smile came into his features. I rolled my eyes.

This was definitely better than doing potions homework.


	2. Chapter 2: Zabini the Mysterious

**Chapter 2**

The next day in potions class, Snape was acting exactly like Blaise had predicted he would. We arrived in the room to see him dancing around wildly. He went from acting like a chicken, to spinning around on the floor like a maniac. It was probably the funniest thing I'd ever seen, everyone was laughing. Snape seemed oblivious though and he continued acting crazy. Harry and Ron were rolling around in their chairs in hysteria and the other kids weren't acting too different. The Slytherins were choking on their laughter and the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were chuckling too. Blaise and I exchanged a knowing look, a devious smile on both of our faces. An odd sensation rose up in me, something like admiration for Blaise's intelligence and humor. I was growing to accept the dark-haired gorgeous boy.

Later that day, I sat down at the dinner table to see a very exasperated Ron.

"What's wrong?" I asked as I spooned my soup. It tasted odd when I put it in my mouth, uncharacteristic for Hogwarts.

"The bloody Quidditch game is tomorrow." He sulked, jabbing his fork into his meat. For the first time, he wasn't eating. His nerves must be particularly bad for this game. That probably meant that Slytherin was playing too; they were exceptionally good this year – or so I'd heard.

"You'll do great, Ron." I said honestly, he usually did, he was just always so nervous about it.

He mumbled something unintelligible and I turned to Harry who gave me a big smile. I smiled too, a little taken aback because he was so down yesterday – until I saw Ginny sitting next to him. Ah, that must have been why he was depressed after all.

"So you're coming right, Mione?" Ginny asked, "Because I was thinking we could hex the other team if they tried to get our boys." She smiled brightly and winked at Harry. I shifted uncomfortably at "our boys" and looked over to Ron, who was thankfully as unobservant as ever.

I had secretly liked Ron for years, and Ginny knew that so she often tried to set us up even though I hated that she did. I thought that she shouldn't have anything do with our relationship – or lack of one. If Ron wanted me like I wanted him, he would have to do something about it, not his sister.

"Yeah, I'll be there," I muttered, frowning. She didn't see that though, and went back to talking to Harry about something, probably Quidditch. Honestly, sometimes I felt left out. They seemed like they all had this common ground, something they could all so easily relate to. I knew I'd always be friends with them, but for some reason I didn't always feel like my place was beside them. That thought tended to send me into a wave of depression because I loved them all so much, but in the end I didn't know if our interests would drive us apart or not.

While I was silently stewing over this, I didn't notice the wave of nausea that came over Ron's face until it was too late.

"Ron!" Ginny screamed as his dinner flew all over her face. I gasped as some of it hit me too. I felt like I was going to puke. I didn't want to move for fear that I would hurl too. My stomach started churning and I put my hand over my mouth, trying to prevent what I knew was about to happen. Ginny stood up and ran out, Harry of course followed. I just sat there in surprise, not really knowing what to say. Ron looked at me, embarrassment on his face as laughter arose in the room. Then my stomach started rolling so quickly and suddenly, my dinner was on me too. My cheeks burned I was mortified. I opened my mouth to say something to Ron, but realized that I didn't know what would help him, so I shut it again. He frowned and ran out, following Ginny, his face matching his hair. I started down the aisle as well, looking around at everyone – some trying to hold back their amusement, others not – and frowned when I saw the Slytherin table laughing at me, all of them. I was immediately hurt – although I should've known better than to trust a Slytherin – because I thought, maybe, that Blaise was better than that. My eyes found his before I followed my friends out the door. I tried to ignore the fact that he didn't seem at all like he cared.

Later that night, after I was clean, I was walking back from the bathroom when I ran into someone tall. At first I was frightened, because it was so late at night and I didn't want to get in trouble. I looked up and frowned, trying to walk around him without saying anything, I was still angry that he was one person while he wasn't with his friends and another when he was. Hypocrite.

"Hello, Granger," a smile played behind his eyes. I scowled. "Get all clean?"

"That doesn't concern you." I said, forcing a smile. His eyebrows raised on his forehead.

"Are you angry about something?" He asked, leaning against the nearest wall.

"I have no reason to be angry with you, you don't owe me anything." I said defiantly, my arms crossed over my chest. I noticed that his eyes flashed angrily, before he smiled lightly and shrugged. I frowned, I really wasn't angry at him. I was angry at me for hoping that I could be friends with this Slytherin. I should have known.

"I suppose I don't do I?"

"Nope," I started to return back to the Gryffindor common room, but he stopped me, his hand grasped lightly around my bare wrist. My skin heated at the contact.

"What?" I said angrily, hoping he wouldn't see the goose bumps on my skin.

"Cold?" He smiled devilishly. Of course he would.

Quite the opposite actually. "Yes." I lied, "So if you wouldn't mind…" I drifted off when his head snapped to look behind him. I looked but couldn't see whatever he could.

"Shit," He mumbled.

"What?" I asked, eyebrows furrowing. My heartbeat sped up out of fear. Something was very weird about this situation. Blaise randomly chatting me up in the hallway, in the middle of the night, trying to keep me here for whatever reason. I knew it couldn't be because he liked me – he had many other very pretty witches – no, it was obviously something else. My mind searched frantically for something that would make sense, but I found nothing.

Suddenly, he yanked me by my arm into the nearest classroom.

"What the hell, Zabini?" I asked as I fell back into one of the desks. He reached out to catch me in an odd gesture of friendship, or at least toleration. I was surprised by that. He looked out the door, watching for something. I was kind of freaked out. I inched up behind him in effort to feel a little bit less alone.

"Not now," he whispered harshly, and I had no idea who he was talking to.

"Zabini?" I breathed, trying not to cause any loud sounds.

"What?" He bit, still looking out the door.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing," He said, obviously I didn't believe that.

"Then I'll just go," I started to move around his arm, but he pushed me back, both hands on my shoulders. I gasped at the action and the proximity we were now in.

"No…just, er, trust me." He looked into my eyes in a way that banished all my insecurities and fear. There was no way I couldn't trust him after he looked at me like that. I couldn't describe it though, caring almost – although I would never admit this to anyone – almost, adoringly. My stomach churned for the second time that night and I closed my eyes to break contact. Something was definitely up and I was determined to find an answer.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"Come on," He whispered in my ear as he pulled me farther into the classroom. I squealed when I nearly tripped over a desk and he quickly clamped his hand over my mouth. "Shh, Hermione you're such a klutz." He complained, opening the door to a closet and pulling me inside. I tried to squirm away from his grasp, but the small space and his unbelievably strong arms prevented that. I tried – unsuccessfully – to bite his hand and he chuckled quietly, I frowned.

"Mmmph," I muttered unintelligibly.

"Hermione, what is your problem?" He released me, but we were still very, _very_ close. So close in fact, that I felt the warmth radiating from his body. I tried to ignore the awkwardness of this current situation, and the way I wanted badly to reach up and kiss him – just to see what it was like. I blushed at the thought, looking down and frowning.

"What?" He asked, a crease forming between his eyebrows in concern. I shook my head. He lifted my face up with his hand cradling my jaw. I bristled at the intimate touch.

"I don't understand," I breather, trying to pull away from, to avoid falling for him, but he wouldn't let me.

"Understand what?"

"Why you care," I looked into his eyes; his emerald green eyes that could probably make me do anything and I felt like I knew him Like I'd known him forever – however impossible that was – and that didn't make any sense to me. He sighed deeply, agony behind his eyes. I didn't understand that either. He dropped his hand away from my face and sighed again.

"I just… do," He trailed off, looking past my head. At what I didn't know.

"Zabini," I sighed, "It just doesn't make sense. You've never been nice before. And now…" I frowned as he stuck his head out of the door, "I'm talking to you!" I yelled.

"Sorry," he said, an amused smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

"Oh you will be," I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest. He pressed his lips together tightly to avoid laughing, but after a moment he couldn't hold it in. Laughter escaped from his lips, my eyebrows furrowed. His thick, black curls fell languidly in front of his eyes in a way that took my breath away. His lips were perfectly pink and full, his eyes were dark green, almost black in their beauty and I couldn't look away. After a minute, his fit died down and he looked at me deeply, sincerely, kindly. And in the small space, in the dimly lit closet, I realized I must be falling for him, even though I would have never consciously let that happen. I tried again to back away, but the space would not allow it. The way he looked at me his eyes seemed to draw me up into him, but I tried to deny the feeling and tilted my head down. The movement caused an auburn curl to fall into my eyes. My mind was hazed so that I didn't notice when his hand reached out to push it back until he was too close for me to draw away. I realized in an instant, that if he touched me, the desire I had to kiss him would only strengthen, probably to an acute need that I wouldn't be able to resist.

I waited, his hand suspended in the air next to my cheek which I was sure was red by now. He was watching me, a line between his eyebrows in concern or thought, and I let a deep breath out.

When his hand reached out to touch me, I flinched a little and drew back, and when his skin found my skin, I couldn't help but close my eyes. He brought his fingertips from my cheek to my jaw and down to the curve of my neck. He touched my hair gently before laying it behind my ear and I felt my legs tremble. He stepped closer, entranced by something, and pressed his body against mine. I sucked in a breath when his lips kissed my forehead softly, adoringly and I felt like I might cry from the intimacy of the action. I didn't understand why it was so familiar, why when he touched me it didn't feel like the first time. And how when he drew away from me, when his lips left my skin, I wanted to cry for a different reason.

My head spun when he pulled away from me and smiled like a boy who had suddenly got everything he'd wanted. But then, only a moment after, an agony – that I also didn't understand – crept into his features.

"We should go," He said after a time of complete silence, "Flitwick is gone."

"That was _Flitwick_?" I asked incredulously.

"Yes, is something wrong?"

"Well you made it seem like we were about to die, not just get into trouble." I argued as he pulled me along, outside of the classroom and down the hall by the arm.

"Well normally the two run very close in your opinion," He smirked, "I would've thought you'd do anything to avoid trouble."

"I usually value my life a bit more than my record!" I rebuked, he smiled.

"But only a bit, right?" He was mocking me again, but I smiled this time too. The memory of the closet earlier sneaking into my conscious thought.

Later, after Blaise dropped me off at the Gryffindor common room, I sighed, happiness filling me. But as I went up to my bed and changed into a tank top and shorts, I got the feeling that someone else was near. Goosebumps raised on my skin as I searched the room, looking quickly to see if anyone was there. I found no one, but couldn't seem to calm my rapid heart-beat.

"Hello," I whispered timidly, not really thinking that anyone would answer. "Who's there?"

There was a slight breeze in the window that chilled my bare arms, I shivered and crawled into bed. The feeling didn't leave me the rest of the night, even when some of the other girls went to bed too. I just couldn't shake it.

**A/N: Hey guys! I hope you like my story so far. Okay so to clear up any confusion, I've done quite a bit of editing to this story so I've deleted and re-uploaded the story a few times because I was never satisfied. However, I promise to keep these chapters so there won't be anymore confusion. I'd love to hear how you feel about the story though, so review! :]**


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